The Highest Bidder
by Santiago Lopez
Summary: Darren/Heather fic The 2011 GLAAD Media Awards are over and Darren returns to his hotelroom.


**The Highest Bidder**

"Here we are sir." said the cab driver.

Darren smiled one of his big smiles at the cab driver before paying for his fare and exiting the yellow car.

The driver swerved off and almost collided with a truck as he drove off.

Darren shivered slightly as he stumbled down the block to the hotel and nodded gratefully at the doorman as he held open the door for him.

Stepping out of the damp San Fransiscan streets and into the bright open lobby of the hotel, he started walking briskly towards the elevators, eager to get back to his room when an all too familiar voice stopped him.

"Hello Mr. Criss!" said the voice.

_Hector._ Darren stopped and turned towards the concierge worker, putting on his I'm smiling - I'm smiling - fuck you - I'm smiling face.

With his slicked hair back and dark pinstripe suit, he looked eerily similar to Christian Bale, and there was a good chance they might have looked exactly the same if not for Hector's lankiness.

Darren knew he Hector had been ogling him him when he checked in, when he left for the award show, and every time he came into Hector's view in between those events.

Gross.

"Evening Hector." he said somewhat cheerfully, trying to remove as much venom from his voice as possible.

"How were the GLAAD adwards?" asked Hector with a dopey smiley on his face and something about his tone made Darren's stomach churn.

Sober Darren would have been a trooper and tossed him a bone, drunken Darren would have kicked him in the balls and then let him lie on the floor and walk away. Buzzed and tired Darren decided to just cut the converstion short.

"It was amazing, thank you for asking." he purposely slurred on the words.

"Yeah, I-" Hector started to say.

"I would _love_ to talk to you some more, but I'm pretty tired and I have to be up early tommorow morning." Darren said while fake slurring.

"Do you want me to -" Hector started to say.

"No, no, that's alright." Darren said.

"Oh. Okay. Well, good night Mr. Criss." said Hector.

"G'night Hector." said Darren.

Darren let out a sigh of relief when he finally got away from the creepy concierge's gaze and into the elevator.

He rode up to the fourth floor and stopped in front of room 443.

Rummaging through his clutch for his room key, he only managed to to find his cell phone, two checks, and one particular blonde's g string.

He smirked at this.

"That little vixen." he said to himself grinning.

He got out of his dreams when something poked his waist.

He suddenly remembered and quickly stuffed his hand down his suit pocket, pulling out the various items that had accumalted there through the night; his speech, several phone numbers and his room key.

He slipped the key into the door handle.

After a series of quick beeps he pushed the door open and entered the cool darkness of his room.

As soon as he did, he tossed his clutch onto a table then he threw the telephone numbers into the waist basket before he flopped down on the nearest bed.

The clock on the nightstand read 3:28 AM.

He laid in the darkness for a while, thinking about his plans for the next couple of days.

Filming for the second season of Glee had wrapped and he had no other buisness to attend to so he would probably spend a few more days in his hometown.

See the sights, watch a show, party with Heather.

He smiled at the thought of the girl.

It took a bit of persuasion before Darren caved in.

Darren grinned at the thought of what had made him be persuaded.

His smile widened.

If Heather had left the room and been spotted in the city ... oh man, their fandom might have imploded.

_...Wait._

Where was Heather? Darren jerked upright, and as if on cue, the bathroom door flung open, bright white light flooding the room.

He shut his eyes tightly to let them adjust, and when he opened them again, his jaw dropped so much he thought it might have unhinged.

"Sweet Jesus, take the whole car." Darren said.

The dancer stood in the doorway.

There was a strange glint in her deep blue eyes, her long blonde hair cascaded messily over her shoulder and down her back and she was wearing a black unitard - the same one she wore in her Esquire video, the one that hugged the curves of her body, the one that left little to the imagination.

Darren's throat dried.

"You're back." she said softly, a shy smile lighting up her brilliant features.

She walked over to Darren and straddled his lap.

Darren was breathless.

Heather loked absolutely stunning.

Drop dead gorgeous.

Perfect.

**Flawless**.

"I know you liked the video, soooo I pulled some strings and bought this number just for you." Heather said when she saw how Darren was breathless and staring.

She leaned in and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him deep.

"So how was the award show?" she asked after breaking the kiss.

"Huh?" asked Darren, breathless after the kiss.

Heather giggled before repeating her question.

"It was amazing. Everyone was so nice and the after party was insane ..." Darren said before he trailed off a bit before continuing, albeit a bit quieter.

"It would have been better if you were there though."

Heather giggled again.

"Baby I couldn't. You said so yourself. Both of us being at a gay awards show when only one of us was needed, _probably_ would have given our fandom some funny ideas. And besides, I might have kicked that girl's ass for grabbing yours." she said.

Wait. What?

"What are you talking about Heather?" Darren asked.

"I know all about that little _auction_ you had Dare." she winked and kissed his lips but quickly leaned back when Darren tried to kiss her back.

"And to be honest I wasn't to happy about it." she said, sounding serious.

Ohshitshitshitshit.

"I didn't actually mean it at first! But then the event oraganizers thought it would be a good idea and gave me the go ahead, and it was for a good cause!" Darren quickly tried to explain himself, but could tell that Heather was only joking around when he saw her put on her pouty face.

"Hmph. Don't those dumb organizers known that the only person who gets hot kisses from Darren Criss is _me_?" Heather asked.

Darren could only chuckle at that.

"Baby, trust me. Those weren't even real hot kisses, they were just ... pecks. No big deal. And I'm pretty sure the woman who groped me was gay-" Darren started to say but Heather cut him off.

"She still got to squeeze your butt though." she said.

"Well Heather, thirty five hundred dollars for a kiss is kind of a steep, don't you think?" Darren said.

Heather only smirked at this.

"Well in that case..." Heather leaned over and grabbed something off the nightstand before stuffing it down Darren's breastpocket on his suit.

"What-?" he started to say.

"Thirty five hundred. Cash." Heather was grinning broadly now.

"And..." she said taking something else from her cleavage and pressed it into Darren's hand.

It was warm.

Darren looked down.

"A dollar?" Darren asked.

"That makes thirty five hundred dollar and one." she said while pushing down her grinning boyfriend onhis back and pinned his arms over his head.


End file.
